


It's Quiet Uptown

by xXWindegoXx



Category: Aphmau (Minecraft Diaries) - Fandom, Minecraft (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, I have no regrets, yes i do
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-07 21:16:02
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,686
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26604328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xXWindegoXx/pseuds/xXWindegoXx
Summary: The Ro'Meave's go through Vylad's deathFandom: AphmauSong: It's Quiet Uptown from HamiltonAlso on my Wattpad account, Stine Light
Relationships: Garte Ro'Meave/Zianna Ro'Meave
Kudos: 3





	It's Quiet Uptown

Song: It’s Quiet Uptown from Hamilton  
Fandom: Aphmau

\----------------------------------------------------------------------

There’s a pain too terrible to name

The letter came three days ago.

Azula watched Garroth from afar, afraid to get near him. The letter came three days ago, and since then he had done nothing but ignore everyone and train.

Trainer Bubs had tried to get him to take a break, but Garroth ignored him and kept on training. By the time the sun set on the second day, he had everyone worried for him. 

Azula didn’t dare try to physically stop him, nor did anyone. They didn’t want to end up like Fredrick, the poor boy is still with the healer recovering. Trainer Bubs had tried to stop Garroth, but stopped dead in his tracks when he saw the expression on Garroth’s face.

Void of emotion, yet his eyes, which were usually filled with joy and cockyness, now with an anger and underlying sadness Trainer Bubs had never seen before.

The guard academy let him be alone, Irene knows he needs solitude, not because of his temper but because of what the letter held. 

The letter came five days ago.

Garroth sliced the training dummy again, and again, then once more. When he read that letter, ‘train, train, train,’ was constantly going through his mind. He had to do something, or else he will go back to the letter. That was something Garroth could not go through again. 

Eventually, the sun set, and it was too dark, he was forced to stop training and go back to his dorm. Unlike the others at the academy, Garroth did not share a room with anyone else, perks of being the son of the Lord of O'khasis.

The letter sat open on his desk, mocking him. Garroth had already read the contents on the inside, but Garroth had pushed away thoughts on the letter for five days. But now there was nothing to distract him from his thoughts, tears threatened to escape his eyes, but Garroth held them back with all his might. 

Garroth grabbed the open letter with shaky hands, he read it once more:

Garroth,

I know this is sudden, I have never once written to you before, but I am afraid that this letter comes to you with some devastating news.

On tuesday of last week….

Garroth quickly looked away, dreading for what came next. With all his will, he turned back to the letter.

… your youngest brother, Vylad Ro’meave, was tragically killed from a bandit’s arrow in the private gardens.

This is a cause of great sadness, your mother has locked herself in her private chambers and wont open the door to anyone. And your brother Zane has been wandering the halls and streets of the village as of late. I myself have been drawn to the gardens, your brother's favorite spot. 

He always told your mother and myself that he went there because it was quiet, and always spoke about how much he loved the quiet.

I expect that once you have finished your guard training that you come immediately to the village, if not sooner.

Sincerely,  
Garte Ro’meave, Lord of O’khasis

Garroth glared at the revolting piece of paper, how dare something so simple carry news that could drive a person to the brink. 

He threw the letter on the table and went back outside to the training grounds, deciding that sleep was out of the question.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------

… And I pray, that never used to happen before

Zane wandered the streets of his village in a daze. The faces of his people looked on him with pity:

“Did you hear…”

“... The youngest…”

“I feel so bad…”

“I wonder what will happen now...”

“... I hope Mrs. Ro’meave is alright”

Were a few of what Zane heard, he ignored them and continued walking. 

Zane didn’t know where he was going, he never knew these days, ever since Vylad… Yeah. 

It’s funny, Zane has ignored Vylad’s existence for his entire life, but now that he’s gone… Zane feels like something is missing. 

When they were younger, Zane used to take Vylad’s favorite books and throw them in the mud, he used to pull his hair if Vylad ever got too close. Yet Vylad has only ever treated him with patience and kindness. 

Now that he was gone, Zane was… Sad? Why? Vylad has been a little pest to him since the moment he was born, why was he sad?

Zane cried himself to sleep last night, why? He doesn’t know. 

Coming out of his dazed state, Zane found himself in the center of the market square, eyes of pity were trained onto him from all around. 

Zane turned around from his spot in the center and headed back home. On his way, Zane found himself stopping outside of the church. Strange, he had never been inside it before yet here he was, about to open the door, with no plan at all.

The church on the inside was large, and commanded respect, yet felt safe and welcoming. The statue of Irene stood at the center of the stage at the very back of the church. 

Zane walked the way towards Irene and stood in front of her. He stared at the statue, not really knowing what to do.

“Are you alright?” A males voice said behind him. 

Zane turned around and saw a priest who looked to be about in his late fifties-early sixties. He had brown greying hair, and worried blue eyes. 

“Um…” The priest smiled sadly. 

“The loss of one's sibling is always the hardest to comprehend,” the priest said, “you grow together side-by-side, and once you lose the other you go through life wondering what to do now that they are gone.”

Zane didn’t know what to say, is that what he’s feeling? Wonder of what to do now?

“I find..” The priest said, “praying seems to help,” Zane said nothing. He looked at the statue of Irene and put his hands together.

‘Irene?’ Zane thought, ‘if you are there… please take care of Vylad,’

It wasn’t until nightfall when Zane showed up at home. He went back to church the next day, and the day after that, and soon Zane was rarely found anywhere away from the church.

That of course, was only the beginning. 

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Look at where we are, look at where we started

Garte remembers the first time he saw Vylad. 

Zianna was exhausted from the birth and fell asleep once Vylad had been fed. Garte didn’t want to go in the room just yet, he was not ready to see the face of a child that was not his. 

Grace, Zianna’s midwife, came out from the room and told Garte that if he wanted, he could go in and see his son. 

That word, son, what makes a son? Garte only knew of the one. 

He went in the room, Zianna fast asleep and a crib right by the window. There was no noise coming from the crib, yet the blankets moved.

Garte walked slowly towards the crib, and stopped right at the edge. The babe was covered in a dark green blanket that resembled the leaves of the trees outside.

He took a deep breath and moved the blanket away from the babes face, and was met with the greenest eyes Garte had ever seen. 

The babe had beautiful brown-red hair and bright emerald green eyes. He looked nothing like Zianna, and at the same time he was the spitting image of her. 

Garte didn’t know what to think, the child smiled up at him with those large green eyes. Garte really didn’t know what to do. 

Over the years, Garte watched as the small babe turned into a child and that child grew into a young man. And over the years, Garte found himself looking out for the boy Zianna called Vylad, after her late father. 

Vylad has somehow found his way into Garte’s heart. That was a feat unto itself. Now looking back on that day, Garte wonders how he could have prevented it. 

Vylad has always loved the stop under the willow tree, describing it as the quietest place in O'khasis. Garte was watching from the window, he should have seen the bandit, but he didn’t, he was busy focusing on Vylad. He looked at peace.

Of course the bandit was hunted down and sentenced to death. But Garte fears that was not enough. 

The arrow that shot Vylad through the liver lay on his desk at the moment, mocking Garte’s failure at protecting his son.

… His son?

What makes a son? Garte only knew of the one, but… Vylad was his son. 

Over the years, Garte has come to understand and accept the fact. This may only be Zianna’s by blood, but… Vylad was his son. And now he’s gone, forever, he will never see him again. Garte didn’t know what to think. 

That small babe was gone, never to come back again. Those emerald green eyes that seemed so fake, will never see the light of day again. Garte didn’t know what to think. 

What do you do in these situations? What are you supposed to feel when your child dies? Garte didn’t know, he was never equipped to handle things like this. Always thinking that his sons would outlive him. 

What do you do when you outlive your son?

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

There is a grace too powerful to name

Zianna still sees the blood. 

The pain of the arrow showed in his eyes. Yet when he saw Zianna, he smiled and reached out for her. Zianna still sees her baby as his eyes emptied, and his smile wavered.

Zianna has not been outside her private chambers in a week, and wouldn’t open the door to anyone. 

Garroth was her protector, he would always ‘protect’ Zianna from the evil monsters that plagued the private gardens, Zianna learned to never stop protecting for monsters could be just around the corner. Zane was her teacher, always coming to her with new found knowledge, Zianna learned to never stop looking for knowledge for it could be just around the corner.

Vylad? Vylad was her baby, whenever he was scared he would run to her. Whenever he found something interesting he would run to her. Whenever he got nightmares and couldn’t fall back to sleep he would climb into her bed at night. 

But he was gone now.

She will never see his beautiful emerald eyes, hear his laugh, see his wonderful smile. No, he was gone, she will never see him again. 

What is the word you call a parent when they lose their child? There is none.

When a wife loses her husband she is a widow,  
When a husband loses his wife he is a widower,  
When a child loses their parents they are an orphan,  
Yet a parent is not called anything when they lose their child. The pain is too great.

Zianna cannot remember the name of the person who said that. Zane possibly came up to her one day and spoke it, she cannot remember. 

How? How could this have happened? Out of everyone in the village, how could this have happened to Vylad? Such a gentle and kind soul, couldn’t hurt a fly. 

“Zianna…?” Garte’s voice was heard behind the door, “Please listen,” Zianna did. “If there was a way to turn back the clock, and save him from his fate I would do it, he would be standing right beside you and you would smile. That would be enough.”

“I will not pretend to know what you are feeling, for I don’t know myself,” he said, “I know there is no replacing him, and you need time. Just let me stand by your side, that would be enough.”

/////

Zianna didn’t know how, but Garte managed to get her out into the garden. 

“Zianna, do you like it? It’s quiet here,” Garte hesitantly asked, Zianna didn’t answer. From the corner of her eye she saw Zane lead Garroth through the gate, they stopped a little ways away from her and Garte. 

Zianna walked ahead of Garte and he sped up to catch up to her, she went to the bench under the large willow tree and sat down. 

Some of the blood was stained on the bench, Zianna just stared at it until Garte noticed and gently took her away from there. Garroth and Zane followed them.

They went into the town and tried their best at ignoring the whispers and pitying eyes that followed them. Zianna kept her eyes trained on the floor, some of her hair covering her face. The town was quiet today, so unusual. 

Zianna walked, and walked and walked, not really knowing where she was going, just… away.

Garte walked beside her, Garroth and Zane behind them, side-by-side. Garte tried getting Zianna to talk, but she ignored all attempts at conversation and continued on her way. 

“... The youngest, Vylad…”

“I heard it was a bandit…”

“... I’m pretty sure it was a vampire…”

“Do you like it here?” Garte whispered in Zianna’s ear, “it’s quiet here,” Zianna smiled.

The walk ended back at the private gardens, Zianna went in first, followed by Garte, Garroth and Zane. 

Zianna left Garte’s side and walked back over to the willow tree, but stayed standing. From the corner of her eye she saw Garroth’s silent tears cascading down his face, while Zane looked down, shielding his face from everyone. 

It was silent as Zianna looked up at the leaves of the tree. As they swayed in the wind, Zianna felt tears roll down her face as the willow tree settled down.

For a split second Zianna saw what she thought was Vylad, he was sitting on the bench reading his favorite book, ‘The Garden of Proserpina’. He looked up at Zianna, and he smiled.

Zianna closed her eyes, and when she opened them back up again, he was still there smiling at her. Zianna felt the tears come faster, and a soft gasp escaped through her lips. 

Silently, Zianna took hold of Garte’s hand, her eyes still on the smiling form of her child, and whispered;

“It’s quiet, Vylad always loved the quiet”

\----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Vylad woke up with a gasp. 

The pain in his chest was no longer there, but he did feel a tug in his chest. From where he was laying down Vylad saw the sky was an ugly red color. 

Scared, he sat up quickly, when he looked around he saw red and black everywhere, as well as lava pools and lava cascading down the sides of mountains. 

Vylad stood up on the shaky legs and looked around wildly. 

The feeling of armour made him stop what he was doing and look down.

The armour, while never having worn it before, felt as if it was made specifically for Vylad. It was the same shade of red and black of the surroundings around him. 

‘I don’t remember putting this on’ Vylad thought. 

From the corner of his eye, Vylad saw a large structure in the middle of the largest lava pool. It was a darker red than the red around it. There was a bridge that stretched across the lava pool and connected the two sides. 

Not knowing what to do, Vylad began the long walk towards the structure.

When he got close enough, Vylad noticed strange creatures at the entrance of the structure. They were wearing the same armour Vylad woke in. 

When the creatures noticed him, Vylad ran the other way, unfortunately, the creatures followed. 

Vylad ran for some time with the strange creatures running after him. After some time, it was clear the creatures were not going to stop, Vylad fell down in front of a small lava pool. 

It was then where Vylad got to look at himself, more importantly, his eye. There was a huge crack, on the left side of his face that went right through his eye. The more Vylad stared, the more his anxiety rose. 

Vylad looked even more and he noticed the reflections and the creatures that were chasing him. 

He screamed.


End file.
